


A Court of Lost Dreams

by PoppyCain



Series: A Court of Lost Dreams [1]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - A Court of Thorns and Roses Fusion, F/F, F/M, It might get a little PG but there will be individual chapter warnings, Knifeplay, Mystery, Other, Post-Book 4: A Court of Silver Flames, Pre-Book 1: A Court of Thorns and Roses, Rebirth, Rhysand's Sister is Resurected, She falls in love with Azriel, Spoilers for Book 4: A Court of Silver Flames, The Court of Dreams (ACoTaR), The Court of Nightmares (ACoTaR), The Night Court, The Spring Court, Velaris (ACoTaR), kind of, rhysands sister
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:02:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29910456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoppyCain/pseuds/PoppyCain
Summary: Andromeda, or Rome as her brother Rhysand called her, died.A brutal affair by those she might have once considered friends.Still, she is the daughter of a High-Lord and a Illyrian warrior. And on the night before the rite, the Illyrians are given a burst of magic, and as a half-blooded fae the magic runs itself in strange ways through her. It was on this night she and her mother's lives were cut short. But in a last-ditch effort to save herself, she flung a part of her soul with the strange abilities granted to her into the darkness, before being slaughtered beside her mother.Now, 300 years later the kernel of magic has been awoken by the stirrings of cauldrons, dread troves and the mother herself alike.Granted life anew by a shining figure, she awakens at the very spot she was killed, with no memory or direction past a need to get home and find her brother.But everything had changed, Rhys is now a high lord, he has a mate and a child and Rome feels alone in this strange new world. Together with the Inner Circle, she quests for revenge, for answers and for love. Her brothers bestfriends don't seem so strange anymore ... and something inside calls to Azriel- her brothers Shadowsinger
Relationships: Azriel (ACoTaR)/Original Character(s), Azriel (ACoTaR)/Original Female Character(s), Azriel/Rhysand's Sister (ACoTaR), Emerie/Morrigan (ACoTaR), Feyre Archeron & Rhysand, Feyre Archeron/Rhysand, Nesta Archeron & Cassian, Nesta Archeron/Cassian
Series: A Court of Lost Dreams [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2199399
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33





	1. Prologue - And Then There Was Light

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Chapters will vary in length, but I will aim for 3000-5000 words per chapter.
> 
> I tried to write this prologue in third person because of (redacted), but honestly it's hard to stick to it, and so it might be possible I will switch out after the prologue and go into First Person because it's a lot easier for me.
> 
> I'm also a uni student who had multiple other fics, hobbies and commitments so I PROMISE I will update whenever I can and/or the inspiration strikes!
> 
> Love yall <3

There was darkness ...

And then there was light.

It was shockingly simple, and though Andromeda had been screaming in pain, her vocal cords ripping as she tried to grasp her wingless stumps with broken fingers with one hand, the other shooting her magic into the abyss, as the axe had fell, she had somehow been able to expect what lay next.

And it hadn't been this.

Though she had not body, she could feel herself as a distinctly different being from the light around her. Where were the gates? The immortal land of milk and honey?

"This is rather odd," she heard her voice speak, though where it came from she had no idea.

There was nothing but light, and no way to tell if she was staring at a single spot or looking around for she had no eyes or neck to turn.

She waited for a moment, though time here seemed to move strangely.

It was not something she could describe or even understand, only that there was a new presence she could not quite explain. It felt like one was opening a doorway inside of a oak house that led onto a freezing mountainside. Like two places or planes of being were being connected together like maps laying on top of one other. Except it was happening to her small concentration of her soul that was distinctly different from the place around her.

In some sense it was like the place one went when winnowing. Except this was a place of golden, buttery light, and gentle warmth rather than the dark and cold landscapes that one had to step through when winnowing.

1 second or even 10 years may have passed, before a silver-white spark of light blossomed out of the golden rays twinkling around her.

It grew, and Andromeda could only cast her concentration as the paler light morphed into the curved, ever-changing form of a female. Though she had no distinct features, the warmth Andromeda felt upon her small being reminded her of her mother.

Her mother.

Where was she?

She tried to turn, to search the golden light beside the female figure that was definitely not her mother, as it was without wings, but she couldn't move. Couldn't exist in any form that wasn't gazing upon the light with her sight that wasn't from an eye.

This was all so strange.

"Hush little one, don't fret." The light female spoke, the sound visual waves that rippled into Andromeda's self and carried on into the eternal light.

"Your mother has passed from your world, and gone onto the next-"

"N0!" The girl cried, her own voice a piteous and rough vibration compared to the older females softer tone, "I want my mother! Where is she?"

The light figure tilted her head, and she became more defined, though if Andromeda looked to hard she started to fade back into a silver light. She could not see her face, a veil of light and subtle shadows made it so only a pair of barely defined lips could be seen.

"Sweet child, she has gone somewhere you cannot go." The voice was soft, firm.

Andromeda felt her tiny self ache, even though she had no body and surely no nerves her very soul wish for her mother to be beside her. She was 20 now, and though not fully matured, an adult in many peoples eyes. But she still wanted her mother.

The woman made of light, who Andromeda wondered if she was some guard for the other side, for the afterlife that so many believed in, shifted and Andromeda almost lost focus of the barely recognisable form of a woman in front of her. She was made of pure light, and every few moments seemed to fall back into that primal state of existence.

Andromeda wondered what had she done to warrant being left outside? Barred entry?

"It is nothing like that child, please listen whilst I still have time."

Time? There was nothing but time in this landscape of golden light ...

Still Andromeda calmed herself, and tried harder to focus on the female.

"You called out to me, and though it has taken me so long, longer than I could have wished, to answer you, I am granting your wish now."

Andromeda did not understand, and when she saw the female slowly becoming less and less distinguishable she asked, "What do you mean so long? Where's my mother?!"

The female dipped her veil head, and even that soon became lost in her light mass, until she was simply just an outline.

"Find your happiness child, find your family."

"NO!" Andromeda roared, suddenly becoming aware of herself. She did not have a body yet, but she could feel something more than just her consciousness, like air bubbles in a river slowly coming together to form a pocket of air.

The silver woman started to fade, shrinking by the second.

Though she could not see them, Andromeda became aware of hands, of a body, of wings.

Mother-be-damned her wings, which she only just recalled had been split from her being.

She struck out her hands, trying to reach for the strange female.

The silver light could not be contained by her suddenly materialising hands and Andromeda heard herself cry out again for clarification, for her mother, for something to hold onto.

The golden light however, seemed to hear her and poured into her, burning her eyes that must be forming, feeling like a thousand tongues of flame dancing over her body.

Andromeda struck out, feeling her wings behind her beat at the light, only to tip her over and send her sprawling onto something cold and hard, her wings barking in protest as they lay crushed beneath her body.

Still Andromeda closed her eyes, fighting against the prickling, stabbing sensation all over her body, hands stretched outwards, "WHERE IS SHE? MOTHER!"

There was light ...

And then there was darkness.


	2. Ch 1 - And Then There Was Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andromeda wakes up to find a world that was a very different place than the one she left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bruh writing about Illyrian wings and not being able to experience flight myself is killing me. I made it sound like so much fun, now I'm jealous of my own imagination ;-;
> 
> Also eesh I don't know what's wrong with my writing style in this chapter, I'm usually a lot less blaggy than this. But I don't wanna rewrite it all so have fun :)

There was light ...

And then there was darkness.

Or rather, a less blinding amount of light that didn't burn and nip at my skin.

I opened my eyes, then immediately shut them for my vision was swimming rather nauseatingly. I waited a moment, though the feeling of sickness did not pass as my senses returned with a sharp stab.

I was laid upon my wings, and beyond that I could feel wind on my skin, air in my lungs and the ground beneath my body.

It was too much, so much in fact I rolled onto my side, freeing my wings and dragging them up against my body. I did not want to open my eyes, I wanted to go back to that place of light where I could not feel, I had not understood until now how painful and strange it was to exist with a physical body.

Instead, other senses tormented me. My ears, pointed like my brother and my fathers, twitched with the sound of my breaths, with birdcall and the shifting of trees around me. It was like being shoved from a quiet library into a killing-field.

I might have been crying, might have been screaming, for I was so confused by my senses I could not tell what was internal and external.

My taste and smell returned soon enough, followed by the gentle stirring of my powers in my gut which felt strange and alien though I recognised it instantly.

Strange enough to make me sick.

Though I was confused when I suddenly was, barely moving fast enough so I did not empty my stomach onto myself.

I retched, hands pulling my hair away from my face as even my wings shook with the sickness of my body.

Everything was wrong, everything far too strong and concentrated for me to understand. Five senses were far too much, and whoever designed them were an utter fiend.

The thought caught me off guard, and only then did I open my eyes, surprised at myself.

My wings were the first thing I saw, as beautiful and strong as the mere seconds ago when they had been hewn from me, hung where I was forced to look at them.

I flexed a muscle, and one twitched, making tears form at my eyes.

I was whole again, alive and complete.

And completely alone ...

Sitting up I shoved away the nausea, the sickening dizziness of my senses as memories rushed at me.

I was sitting in the soft morning sun by the side of a meandering stream, just out of the treeline of a small copse of oak trees, and dressed in the clothes I had been wearing when ...

I had been wearing when I died.

My hands shot to my throat, as I numbly rose to my knees scanning the small area around me. There was no Spring Court assassins, Tamlin, his brothers and their father were nowhere to be seen.

I clenched my fingers, grabbing at the flying leathers coating my body from neck to toe. My mother was nowhere in sight, and although the place where I was sat looked familiar, it was all wrong from my memories that seemed but moments before. The trees had not been that tall, the stream had been barely a trickle, and the grass beneath me which I was now finally able to process and study with new-born eyes had dark, painful scorches engraved into the earth and was nothing like the thick, emerald wefts where our camp had been set.

My fingers, feeling like pencils, reached down to touch one of those scorches.

Pain radiated through me, bringing a gasp to my lips.

Not physical, but a wracking, heart-rending ache that shuddered through my strange body before I snatched my unfamiliar hand back.

I moved then, struggling to my feet like a new-born foal as I searched the scorches for a pattern, a meaning.

The scorches lined up to make something, a sigil of some sort. I tried to fly, beating my wings to raise me so I could looked at it from above, but barely managed to rise more than a foot before I crashed downwards, crying out with a voice I barely recognised as my own. They stunk of magic, and mourning, and Rhys.

It was the night court sigil, a mountain with three stars above it, the same as the tattoos covering the backs of my hands.

Shakily rising once more to my feet, I stepped closer to the stream, scanning the area for any sign of my mum, why I suddenly had my wings and head, or any kind of explanation as to what had just happened.

I found it with sobering speed.

Just across from the stream were two headstones made of purple glass.

They looked old, beginning to ruin though the area around them was kept clear.

I staggered across the water, biting my lip at the strange sensation of it against my skin, practically toppling onto my knees as I pounced forward, trying to look at the engravings that were gilt with gold, to fathom my end and new beginning.

Collapsing in front of them I looked to the first, dragging a finger over the name as my brain ran in circles trying to understand the lettering with my hastily returning mind.

Zoe Starling.

My mothers name.

"No, I don't- I don't understand," I whispered, tracing her name in golden letters, underneath there was a small eulogy, though I skipped it as it held no answers.

I tore my eyes which were stinging and clouding up to the other grave.

They caught the light in such a beautiful way, soft and unobtrusive like some stone tombs are, and I was caught up in the colour it took a long moment to work out what the other one read. I could only turn my attention to the words when clouds passed over the glass, dimming the gentle glow.

Andromeda Starling, beloved sister and warrior-in-arms.

The tears that had been forming stilled, turning to glass in my eyes.

This was a grave. My grave.

But I wasn't dead.

"What is going on?" I rasped, wiping roughly at my eyes. Nothing made any sense. One moment I was dying ... the next.

I was dying.

The memories flooded back in full force, hitting me like great sword to the chest, cleaving me in two.

My mother and I had set off for Rhysand's war camp, the rite barely hours away from beginning, had made it halfway when we decided to break for camp.

I had gone to fetch some firewood whilst my mother had began erecting a tent. She was good at it, and I was eager to get away before she roped me into helping, telling me about her own childhood where she grew up in similar conditions.

I had wandered into the forest, shooting bursts of my newly awoken ability to mist things. I loved watching leaves or flower buds burst into fine smelling mists, and whilst I understood it could be far more deadly when applied right, it seemed like a cute party trick.

Too far I had wondered, checking only my most basic senses now and again as I passed over perfectly good firewood to play with my gifts.

I had seen him before I heard or scented him.

Blonde hair, just a single lock that was uncovered by the mud and leaves covering the rest of him, just below that green eyes, the colour like fresh apples.

I had turned and fled, little more than smoke on the wind.

Tamlin was Rhys' friend, but his eyes were the green of dewy grass. Only his strange, staring brothers had eyes that looked like sour cooking apples, and I had known even in the dark that the shade was not a friendly one.

I ran, little more than a phantom, a gift I had learnt after hours playing with Nuala and Cerridwen, the only others close to my age in the Court.

I suppose, if only I had run the other way, instead of back to camp and my mother I believed could shield me form all the ugliness in this world, I might have survived that night.

But I was barely an adult, and unlike my brother did not have the luxury of a warriors training.

I ran, barely in the physical realm right into their trap. I did not scent the others, did not hear my mothers cries until I hurtled through that strange, invisible wall he had made and into camp. Where Tamlin's father, Lugh, the High Lord of the Spring Court dragged a knife across my mothers throat. Her wings were already gone, where Tamlin himself was gripping her beautiful, dark limbs which hung limp and ashen.

The memories blurred there, and I wonder if they did so to save me the pain of reliving it all, but I knew things happened before my own wings were hewn from me, words spoken that I couldn't quite recall, flinging out my power to send a message to my brother and try and winnow, and then my life being taken from me.

But understanding flashed through me all the same. I had gone somewhere in that moment as my body died, my soul I mean. I couldn't remember the blow, though I knew you experienced at least 15 seconds of consciousness after decapitation, I only remembered a place of love and light.

I had died, and gone somewhere.

And that strange woman made of woven light had put me back into this world.

My eyes focused on the writing, gold slotted into the glass which as the clouds ahead passed, shone with a soft lilac light. They were beautiful, though I was confused as to how they got here and how long I had been in that place of golden light. Everything in the glade looked wrong from my memories, and the glass looked old and slightly yellowed, though I could recognise it's craftsmanship as a product of one of the Velaris glassworkers. 

I sat there, staring at my own name for a long moment, letting my senses and stomach settle before I dared try and venture the surrounding woods.

If I was still alive, my mother must be too. It wouldn't be fair, despite what the female made of light had said, to let me return to life and not my mother who was infinitely more patient and beloved by the people.

Where might she be? If I was returned to the spot of my demise, she must have been put somewhere else.

~~~

Eventually, when the sun began to rise higher in the sky I moved- body aching and protesting at the stiffness that had built. I drank from the stream, nearly gagging at the use of my taste buds.

I did not understand, but everything still felt wrong. Like I had been shoved back into my body upside down and my toes were trying to taste the minerals in the water.

Eventually however, as the gentle strength of day rose in the sky, I realised nobody was coming to get me, and I sat alone with my mothers grave and the scorching's in the grass. I did not have the strength, nor the bravery to attempt to winnow. I had only ever done so across rooms, or up stairs, and thinking of the flight back to Velaris, it's length made me stomach churn.

No, that would not be an option.

Flying seemed impossible too, though as the day crept on and on, and my stomach growled I realised I would have to face days of walking and the beasts of night if I didn't pluck up my courage to try and fly again.

It was late afternoon when my body finally felt right enough to try. 

I had been sick a few more times, and napped briefly whilst my body made some vain attempt to sort itself out. During this time I pushed my brain, trying to understand what had happened and came to very few conclusions. Obviously time had passed since I had died- perhaps 10 years I guessed, and obviously this couldn't be my body because it was whole. But why and how eluded me, giving me more confusion and stress than peace.

Shaking my head I watched as the sun began to fall in the sky, knowing that so far north in Prythian, without my mothers wisdom with nature and any protection I was little more than food for the strange drakes that ventured out at night.

I steeled myself, turning away from the sun as it fell to just above the treeline. It was a long flight, and would feel longer because of my awkward new body (though as I realised through inspection was my own, it just felt strange), but I was wearing my leathers and had nothing but time.

Taking a deep breath I stood before mine and my mothers gravestones, watching as they turned dull.

"I'm gonna find you mother, you're probably back with Rhys and father anyway."

Stepping back, almost depositing myself into the stream, I crouched down and spread my wings. I was never very graceful at taking off from the ground, so this might be a messy affair.

I beat them once, twice, feeling my muscles come alive.

Then I pushed off the ground, using my thighs to create such momentum there was a crack in the air at the speed I rocketed into the sky.

Perks of being half Illyrian. They have muscles made for stylish take-off.

I found my rhythm instantly, and realised it was a lot easier than trying to walk. Flying was as it had always been. Natural.

Steadying myself out, I continued upwards, hands clenching and unclenching as I had to power myself up and find a current of air to carry me.

I didn't think I would be able to make it all the way home during the night without one.

When I rose past the height of a three-story townhouse, I hit a warm current, and instantly levelled out.

I didn't have to think too much as the hot air lifted underneath my wings, creating areas of pressure that had me soaring forward with only a single beat on my part.

And easily enough, I was flying.

I laughed loudly, the sound foreign in my throat as the air that had seemed oppressive when I first awoke now like a sirens song in my ear.

This is what I was made for, who I was born to be.

I strained my muscles, beating my beautiful, whole wings again as they carried me faster and further above forests.

Only when I had been flying for a few minutes did I realise I didn't look back at the small glade, and I had gotten too far to be able to see the sigils burnt into the ground even if I turned to look.

The sun was a steady clock to my right as I swooped southwards towards Velaris.

Or at least where I thought it might be.

The realisation I didn't really have any idea where I was going stopped me in my tracks, making me slow, almost falling out of the warm current.

How on earth could I be so stupid, I cursed myself mentally, throwing my hands up to my face.

I glided for a while, searching the skies for any sign. But I was only 20, and had barely left Velaris my entire life. Who was I kidding? I was royally fucked.

Hissing curses at myself I wracked my brains.

Eventually as I soared, trying to at least keep the sun which was quickly falling on my right, because all I knew was Velaris lay south of the camp where I had died.

"I died," I whispered to myself like it was a lovers secret, though I had never had a lover nor any grand secret past Velaris.

I shook my head, trying to shake off the thoughts. It was inconsequential. This was all some strange happening, and I would go home and it would be fine. I would annoy Rhys and his friends when he was home from the troops, and try and avoid father as he talked with his generals about war, and I would spend my days with mother or having dancing lessons, or trying to trail after Mor as she partied in Velaris. It would all be normal again.

It had to be.

My thoughts of family made me almost slap myself silly once again. I was forgetting the easiest way of telling how to get home. I would just follow father's link in my mind.

Stretching my thoughts to him, I was met with a silence.

Trying again I scrunched my eyes up, letting the wind carry me as I tried to picture his sour face and sharp eyes.

Nothing.

I rolled my eyes, knowing he must be sensing me trying to contact him and ignoring me, or probably because I couldn't ever worm my way into his iron-clad defences.

Opening my eyes, I flew harder, trying to keep in the stream of hot air that was carrying me with little effort south.

Rhys was always away with the Illyrian troops, but because time had obviously passed, and the season was different from the one I had left, it could stand to reason I might be able to try and follow his mental signature if he was home in Velaris.

It was a trait only I had inherited, something golden-boy Rhys himself hadn't managed to snatch from the gene pool, and a trick Mor begrudgingly taught me when I was able to pin her down for a couple days. Morrigan, though my cousin, was about two hundred years my senior- and had grown up with Rhys like brother and sister. Which was probably why she didn't want to hang around with me when I was barely a tenth of her age.

She had taught me to cast my minds eye internally, to visualise a daemati like my father or my brother, and to try and feel their presence from even a great distance.

I could only do it with those who I knew to be daemati, which sucked otherwise I'm sure Rhys would take more interest in training me, but I suppose it was about to come in use.

I tried picturing Rhys, my favourite memory of when I was 14 and he spent Starfall playing with me in the sky. Father had been furious, but it had been one of the few times Rhysand had been playful with me instead of some stern older brother. I knew he could be softer, because I saw him sometimes sitting and laughing with Mor and his two Illyrian friends Cassian and Azriel. He became a different person when he was away from father and the court. It was just a shame he rarely showed it off.

Still, I focused on that memory, of the disgusting splatters of spirits we had thrown at each other.

He must have gone easy on me, now I looked back, for he seemed to be just as covered in the luminous glow as I had been. I hung onto the memory, reliving it for seemingly the first time, and tried to hold onto Rhys' energy, the signature of his power.

Something tugged around my wrist, and I opened my eyes.

There a faint black string I knew belonged to him, and thank the STARS is was pointing to Velaris' direction.

I smiled, and sped up, following the ever tightening cord which guided me home.

This was all going to be over soon.

~~~

The moon was still heavy in the sky when I saw the sparkle of the House of Wind, just a single reflection of moonlight on the glass.

I was elated, and also exhausted.

My body felt like it might drop out of the sky, and if I had any more sweat on me then I surely would- weighed down like a full sponge.

I soared, muscles protesting as I turned to sail around on of the towers, coming in past the the large balcony that mother was fond of using to land on.

My ankles, thighs and hips nearly gave out at the motion, and I overshot the landing so much my wings blew me forward, nearly smacking my head against the stone. I screeched, striking out my hands to protect my face. This body might still need some getting used too after all.

I drew my wings in, hissing at the sharp pains in my secondary pectorals -a group of muscles necessary for flight- and stepped to my feet.

Rhysands power signature was ahead, upstairs in the House- probably in the casual dining room where he and his little posse of cool kids gathered. I was close enough now I could probably reach out to him in our minds, so I did.

I was met with an unfamiliar scent of power, as well as several other new energies wrapped over his mind. I did not know whether he realised it was me or not, because dark claws came striking out at my own.

"Bastard." I hissed, retracting my abilities and striking out for the doors. 

If he wouldn't deign to come help me out here, I would bust into the convocation of his little group, hopefully after running into mother on my way up, and chew him out for it.

The grand doors, carved black and white opened without my touch, and I sped through the entrance hall to the rear stairwell.

I saw the shadows in a small corner near a tapestry stir.

Azriel.

I flung my middle finger out at it, and moved past even as the dark tendrils struck out at me like snakes.

I don't know how, but I could always tell which darkness my brothers Shadowsinger could manipulate. Yesterday, or at least what I experienced as yesterday -though it might be some weeks ago- father had made a proposition about testing me personally to see what kind of gifts might manifest given the proper training. Though I doubted I was a Shadowsinger, or had any abilities past being passively aware. After all, even for the Night Court, having two within one lifetime was a bit far-fetched.

I stormed up the stairs, spitting curses at the way my muscles lagged.

After this I was going to have a very long bath.

Rhys's claws brushed at my mind, and I found myself physically trying to swat away the invisible talons.

"I know you can hear my brother-" I hissed out loud, finding myself at the top level of the House, "Mother is going to have you and father for ignoring me."

I turned right, one hand gripping a column to give me momentum as I strode forward.

All that lay between me and my brothers power signature was a single door.

I might have got a bit carried away as my hands reached for the wrought-iron handles, the stress of the day and my bone-weary exhaustion getting the best of me, because the door misted upon my touch- lingering in place for a moment before fading into woody mist.

"Oops," I hissed in through my teeth, the handles dropping from my hands with a clatter.

I walked past the threshold, lifting my gaze to where my brothers usual quad sat.

There was at least double the amount of faeries.

Everything happened far too quickly.

A brown-haired female sat next to my brother with a babe in her arms disappeared from sight, as well as Mor who I barely glimpsed before her golden head also disappeared into the air. There was at least two other strange females, and a male.

My eyes turned to my brother, who was staring at me with a mix of shock and anger. Stood near him with their wings flared was Cass and Az, though I didn't give their faces a cursory glance as their hands on swords that shimmered into being said enough.

Cauldron damned me had I just walked into an orgy?

The thought had barely left my mind when I was slammed into the cold marble, the skin at my knees almost splitting.

"WHAT'S WRONG WITH YO-" 

My demand was cut off by the cool feeling of steel under my throat.

A sword.

My eyes slid from Rhys who had stood, his power seeming to leak out from him like a unstopped vial, to his *Lordship* Cassian.

I snarled at the Illyrain, pushing the sword away with a flick of my fingers, my own power rumbling awake under my skin.

Rhysand may be older, but I was far more volatile when provoked.

Mother always said it was growing hormones but I simply chose to believe I was simply less blasé than Rhys.

"What are you?" My brothers voice rang out.

I turned to look at him, ignoring Cassian who had for some ungodly reason decided I was training practice. Father would have his wings if he knew he ever dared raise a hand -or rather, a sword- to me.

I gave Rhys a bored look, though my exhaustion probably crept through, "Your sister? Mother help us are you going senile already?" I snarled, eyes rolling before I glanced behind him to the plush grey sofas where the remaining two females and male had stood. All of them were unfamiliar, though from the clothes they were wearing they certainly denizens of this court. I might have guessed they were from the Court of Nightmares but that wouldn't make any sense as their ilk was never allowed to know of Velaris.

Besides, they all smelt wrong. Nothing like the stifled, copper scents of those who dwelled in Hewn City. It was hard to distinguish their individual scents, but I could tell they weren't strangers to the land.

Rhys stalked in front of me, and I felt my abilities bubbling under my skin, manifesting in pools of night forming around my knees which must have been bruising.

"What kind of face-stealing demon are you? How dare you take my sisters face." He spat, purple eyes which were mirrors to my own aflame.

I felt the cool press of metal through my leathers, behind my left shoulder. One look to the empty corner he had been inhabiting earlier and I knew it was Azriel.

Creep.

My brows knitted together as I snarled at Rhys, "Stop being such a twit- I know I must have been gone for a couple weeks but that's no way to speak to me- I need to speak to mother and father."

Confusion covered my brothers face before his usual prickish behaviour surfaced and he went cool as a cucumber. Indifferent, "A couple of weeks?"

I think my eye twitched.

"Call your brutish friends off, are you seriously not worried about where I had been? Cauldron-damned you put out graves and everything." I spat, getting annoyed. The night at my knees turned erosive, ready to lash out at the next person who asked a stupid question.

Rhys tilted his head, making me suck my teeth in indignation.

"Well? I'm waiting. Bloody hell I flew all the way here you could at least pretend to be concerned about where I've been for mother knows how long?"

The weaponry pointed at me didn't dip when my brother looked me dead in the eye and snarled,

"My sister had been dead for over 300 years."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IDK who gave the head cannon of the Night Court's ruling family being 'Starling' but I love it and I'm totally adopting it!!
> 
> Not only because of the 'Star' Imagery, as well as the close association with 'Darling' which Rhys calls Feyre, but also the parallels to close-knit flocks of birds named after their dark but colourful feathers (similar to Illyrian wings in colouring).
> 
> ;-; I wish Sarah would just give us his name so we wouldn't have to guess tho!


	3. Ch 2 - A Rock In A Stormy Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andromeda struggles with coming to terms with her reality, and Rhys struggles with her return to this life.
> 
> Rome is also introduced to the inner circle.

"My sister had been dead for over 300 years." Rhys snarled.

I could not have been less bothered.

"Stop acting like such a brute you asshole, I demand to know where mother is I wish to speak with her at once."

Cassian's sword nicked my skin, and I grew weary of letting my brothers henchmen treat me like a plaything.

One flick of my finger had their weapons thrown back, and I rose shakily to my feet- shooting Cassian a dirty look as I did so.

They tried to come at me again, but my magic wound it's way as a protective barrier around me. I would have included Rhys but I didn't really like the way his was looking at me.

"What kind of skinwalker are you? How did you manage this?" He shot, and I took a degrading glance at his clothes.

A black long-sleeved tunic, blazoned with silver threads and buttons, and a black trousers that cinched in closer to the ankle.

I narrowed my eyes, for no other reason that to annoy.

"Shut up." I spat.

Rhys' magic pooled around him, inky night, and my own mirrored his actions.

But he would not back down, and the harsh expression of his face was one I wasn't used to seeing.

Taking a wary glance at his magic which seemed somehow more magnetic from the last time we had been together, I read the room.

It was full of tight faces and drawn weapons. And not nearly enough muffled laughter for this to be some kind of prank.

But 300 years was surely as joke, right?

I tossed my hair behind me with a flick of my wrist, and crossed my arms as I looked back to my brother, the picture of contempt.

Rhys spoke again, and I barely noticed as the fair-skinned female who had been sitting beside him winnowed back into the room, this time without the Illyrian babe in her arms.

"My sister is dead, and you will be to for daring to impersonate her."

The words were cold, and I didn't recognise until they were spoken that they were in the tone of my father.

Rhys had barely ever spoken like this to anyone, let alone me. Sure he spent most of his time in the war-camps but I was always his little sister. And even though he was the heir, there was never any time when he felt the need to impose that onto me when trying to make me stop annoying him. He had been my big brother first, and the Lord-Heir second.

"Impersonate?" My voice was a lot weaker that I wanted it to be.

But it had been a long day, and I just felt so confused and exhausted.

I shook my head, bringing a hand to my head where I massaged my temples.

"Look I don't know what kind of prank you're playing," I glanced over at the female who Cassian and Azriel had stalked to stand behind. They both looked grim-faced, the kind of expression they would reserve for when my father entered a room.

"But why don't you just look into my mind to see it's really me." I said, almost adding a petulant sigh to the end.

Everything felt off. Like when someone plays a joke on you but takes it way too far, and there is that moment of when you start to actually believe that their telling you. I could feel it in my stomach, like I was leaning over a pit and if I took a wrong step I would freefall into the abyss.

There was a vein on Rhys' forehead. Barely visible, but I could see it slightly as he obviously ran through my proposition in his mind. I almost laughed at it before I realised he'd never had it before. Time had obviously passed, enough for his face to change that little bit.

He was mistaken. Or lying.

"Fine."

My brothers words brought my attention back to the situation. The fair-skinned female was now standing beside him. Her arms were hanging by her sides, brushing against the soft midnight blue of her clothes. Her index finger twitched as I looked at her, towards my brothers hand which was a few inches away. 

She wanted to hold his hand.

I looked up at Rhysand, weighing in his face.

Who was this female? He had never had any interest in finding a partner though father often tried to have him meet with daughters of lords in hewn city, constantly trying to find him a match so they could start producing more heirs.

Had be finally caved?

The female had a strange face. Beautiful but in a strange way. Her lips and eyes were soft, but the rest of her features were sharp and straight. And though it took a moment I realised she was a very similar match to the female wearing a silver gown standing by the couches. They must be sisters, for their resemblance was almost too much for any other relation.

But what surprised me most was when that finger twitched again, her hand shifting slightly so I could see her other fingers.

She was wearing mothers ring.

The infamous sapphire, with it's six pointed star like the ones on our Courts banners. Mother had worn it often in my childhood, and I played with it for many years before one day she had returned from a trip without it just after my 11th birthday.

"Gone," she had explained, "put away for safekeeping until another time my angel."

Obviously not gone. For this female was wearing the ring I had spent hours staring at whilst my mother had sewn and tried to make me learn a variety of talents.

My wings dipped, and I felt their weight fall upon my shoulders.

Finally I tore my eyes from her hand when she tucked it behind her clothes, and met my brothers gaze.

It had softened inestimably, and I saw a spark of pain in his eyes as he followed my confused stare. My throat caught. Why would it pain him for me to questions mothers ring being upon this female?

Before I lowered my shields, I shot a glare as Cassian who was looking at me with confusion and his usually empty stare. Him I wasn't that scared of, he was just a bit of a brute. But when I looked to Rhys' other side Azriel was staring at me with his silent eyes, shadows curling around his ears.

I didn't dare antagonise him, because his mind was impossible to penetrate. I could never get a reading off him, no matter how much I tried to Rhys' annoyance.

Flitting my gaze away I straightened, letting my arms fall from their position across my chest. I held my left arm up, running my finger against the invisible barrier.

Within time I might be able to take it apart without a physical connection, but I wasn't quite there yet.

I ran my hand across it's surface, and the air rippled as it fell. My tattoos on my hands, the only ones my parents had ever permitted I bear, caught Rhys' eye as I held out my hand to him.

As soon as they fell I was engulfed in darkness, and though I made to claw it away, eyes straining at the sudden void before me, Rhysand grabbed my hand.

I felt his claws around my shields, and I lowered them tentatively, hissing at him to how he could have been a little gentler.

I saw him rooting through my mind, my sense of self and even my memories.

Swatting him away from some more embarrassing ones, like trying to stare at him and his trio of friends from the cracks of doors, or mother giving me the 'talk', I started to feel some of his own emotions leak into my mind.

Pain. Not physical but a strangling emotional longing. Relief, confusion and grief.

Grief so heavy it coated my tongue like spoiled milk.

And rage, when he slithered over those memories I had pushed down of the forest. Of me and mother. I ignored them, trying not to think of them even as he watched them with anger that shook the floor and the mountain beneath it- the only thing I could feel in the infinite night he exuded. I didn't want to think of what happened. It confused me, even more so the place of light which was quickly fading from my memory.

"I don't know how you're back Rome. But it's really you isn't it."

My sight returned the moment his claws left my mind, and all I saw was him bending down and sweeping me into his arms.

This is nice, I thought, as he promptly tired to squeeze the life from me.

I looped my arms around my brothers shoulder, letting him have a moment for delirium before I proceeded to beat him with a slipper for daring to question who I was. He was warm, and I could feel his scent filling my nose. He smelt like home. The rain of the forests, salt of the sea and citrus of the heavy lemons that grew in Velaris. But there were other scents there too, his own mingled with another's, the female beside him ... a mate. And the hollow scent of power- one I had only smelt on our father before.

His arms tightened around me, and his own wings appeared as he clung onto me like a rock in a stormy sea.

My brother had a mate.

I opened my eyes, surprised that my vision was blurry with tears. Somehow it felt like both a few days and a lifetime since I had been with my family. I wasn't sure if I was crying because of what I had smelt on my brother or the experience I had been in.

"You have a mate?"

He pulled me back so he was just holding onto my arms, and I was shocked to see tears in my brothers eyes.

Why was he crying? Had he really been so concerned about where I was?

"Yeah Rome I have a mate ... and a son." His smile was unrestrained as he pulled me back into a hug.

I coughed, the wind being crushed out of me as I looked over his wings as the motley crew which were staring at me in confusion and ... fear?

But my brother didn't get to worm his way out of this one so easily. Pulling my wings under their glamour I began to slap his back, seething like a wildcat.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU HAVE A SON AND A MATE!" I hissed, hitting him with my fists.

Cassian who had gone from anger to shock in such a short moment was trying not to laugh as I pummelled my brother.

Rhys pulled me away and held me at an arms length as I hissed at him. My power swirled around me as it tended to when I was annoyed, and I could feel the darkness weaving its way through my hair which was dishevelled to say the least.

"When did this happen? When you were away at the camps? Is that why you wouldn't meet us?"

His face faltered, and I saw something past the mask he had slid on -so much like fathers.

"Where's mother? I saw her grave, but I had one too and I'm not de- I'm here. So where is she?"

I watched his tan face, a shade darker than my own as he ran a hand through his hair. The pit in my stomach loomed closer.

"Andromeda ... Rome it really had been 300 years since you ... I saw you-" he began using my nickname, and I shook my head, trying to pull away before his hands gripped my shoulders tighter, "You're here. You're really here ..." he whispered, looking old and weary to a point I almost bolted. 

"A lot had happened, more than I can explain in just a few sentences."

He looked behind him, meeting eyes with the fair-skinned female.

Her scent hit my nose then, and I mulled over the fact this was my brothers mate. I had never seen her before, but then again I had rarely seen anyone outside of my fathers court.

Rhys pulled back one hand, looping his fingers with the females.

It was then I realised what the other scent was threaded in with his and the females. One I had only ever smelt on father.

"You're a high lord now ... aren't you?" I asked, brining my hand up to his which rested on my shoulder. I could feel my brother, though I wanted to pelt him with sharp words for not introducing his mate to me yet, but his presence was soothing. 

Rhys nodded, and I watched the female beside him smile. The same power lingered on her, and it made me hesitate.

My power turned into small snakes threading through my hair which I batted away. I was still young by High Fae standards, and my abilities were hard to control. But still, I felt awful when the smile on my brothers made faltered slightly at the serpents which had hissed at her. I wanted to tell her that I didn't mean any aggression as my darkness dissipated into the air.

"Well," I cleared my throat, ignoring the pounding of my head as that pit in my stomach seemed to turn into a cyclone of wind and insecurity that threatened to swallow me whole, "Perhaps I should get cleaned up and we can talk about everything."

My brother and his mate nodded, and I wiped at the tears that had stopped falling, but coated my cheeks like honey. 

He nodded to me, gripping my shoulder reassuringly before looking over my shoulder. 

Before I turned I watched the others in the rooms, their faces all drawn and watching me like I was some sort of ghost.

Not wanting to antagonise I resisted shooting them a glare, and spun on my heel to my closest friends.

Nuala and Cerridwen.

They both looked confused, and were gripping each others hands as Cerridwen motioned for me to follow them.

Glancing back at my brother I smiled weakly at him as my old friends pried me away, hurrying me towards a bath that was surely already filling.

~~~

"You look exactly the same as that morning we sent you off."

"Even down to the knot in your hair we couldn't work out."

The twins were fussing over me in the bath. I had broken down in confusion and stress as soon as we reached my old rooms. Almost everything in them was covered with a thin layer of dust, my small collection of weapons and jewellery were tarnished with age, my mirror faded with time. It was then I realised I really had been gone 300 years and began to sob as my friends undressed me and shoved me in a bath.

The how, where and why were still floating around my mind as Nuala ran a brush through my hair, glancing at her twin as my sobs had run into hiccups and I scrubbed at my face with a flannel. 

Cerridwen was folding my flying leathers, searching through some drawers for clothes for me to change into, pulling out garment after garment that would only fit one of the High Fae.

I suppose I was High Fae, but I was also Illyrian, and the latter's blood ran true. I had wings, and an aptitude for violence, as well as a large chest.

Most of the High Fae were tall, slim, and ethereal- their bodies like wisps of smoke, made for dancing and drinking under full moons. But Illyrians on the other hand, like my mother, were built for combat. We were tall yes, but built with muscles and power. Even those of us who were not warriors, namely the females, were beings of earth and blood, and our bodies reflected it. I was blessed with curves little High Fae could achieve, with muscles and meat that made up more space.

As so, what clothes could usually fit the High Fae had to be altered for me. Arm-less was not an option, nor was certain garments that had not been tailored for my wings. Although I glamoured them whenever I was in the company of those outside my immediate family and friends, I had to have clothes with space for them if the moment turned dangerous. Ready to flee at a moments notice.

Cerridwen spoke to the house in a low voice, asking for some clothes.

I watched as the type of garment my brother's mate had been wearing plopped into her hands with a soft fwump.

Instead of the midnight blue she wore, these were deep purple, embellished with gold and silver alike.

I smiled, murmuring my thanks to the house. 

Cerridwen turned to look at me curiously, "You still talk to it like its alive."

I shrugged, swilling my hands through the warm water, "For me it's only been a day since I was last here. I still think it is, kind of."

Nuala paused in her movements, leaning down to whisper in my ear, "You'll find the High Lady's sister thinks the same way, perhaps you'll be friends."

"High Lady?!" The words hurtled out of my mouth as I turned in the bath to face Nuala who glanced at her sister. Obviously Rhys has told her to keep her trap shut about it because her grey skin turned purple around her cheeks. A blush.

Nuala smiled down at me, her fingers worrying at the combs guilt handle.

"There is much for you to learn about, it has been a very very long time for all of us, full of challenges that have made it feel like even longer." She smiled as she spoke, but I saw a darkness in her eyes.

It only gave me more questions than answers so I slumped down in the path, twirling my hand through the waters scented with night blooming flowers. Mother had often told me that's what my scent reminded her of. Of rain in a garden of jasmine, hyacinth, lilac and clematis. She had smelt like herbs and citrus, and I wondered where I got it from- though she explained that everyone's scents were unique, some kind of mixture of our abilities and heritage making itself known in our pheromones.

My hand gripped the tub, and I only noticed when the marble screeched against my fingernails.

Loosing a breathe I blinked, pushing my thoughts from my head and turned so Nuala could finish my hair.

I was exhausted, but I was also hungry. Sleep could come later after Rhys answered my questions, and I probably answered some of his, over a meal.

At the thought of answers my abilities stirred, restless.

I tried to breathe through my nose as I felt them tumbling in an odd fashion.

I had never mastered them, and still required decades of training before they would be anything like the honed weapon of my brother and fathers, and truth me told I wondered if I had discovered the depth of them yet. Only weeks ago, or rather several hundred years, I supposed -had I found I could mist things. But I did hope no latent abilities made themselves known over dinner.

I watched Cerridwen root around the drawers for some jewellery and I smiled at her.

This whole thing must be odd for them, at least as strange as it was for me. And yet they were putting on brave face, acting like I had just come home from a long trip.

It was when she pulled out my favourite necklace, a clematis flower that had been created from thin twirls of silver and hung on a chain I rose from the bath.

"That looks great. I would love that one."

~~~

A few minutes later I had dried off, then dressed in the dark purple clothes, the faintest slit of my almond skin peeking through as I moved around my room.

Nuala and Cerridwen had helped with my hair, though I insisted on tying several small braids into my hair for luck.

It was an Illyrian tradition, and I used small silver and golden rings which not only matched my clothes but were good luck, to help my state of mind. It was only a small thing, and the rest of my hair was drying naturally, but it made me feel confident. Mother had always worn them, proud even when some High Fae had turned their noses at her culture.

And yet, it was all too soon until I was walking back towards the top floor, my hand in Cerridwens for moral support.

Still for all my nervousness, I was ravenous.

"I'll see you guys after right ... if I need someone to cry too." 

Nuala looked over her twin at me and laughed, the sound like smoke. "Yeah Roman," She smiled, the second person to use my nickname, "We'll be out here if you need company."

I nodded, coming to the doors which I had misted and had since been replaced by draping silk curtains.

My cheeks heated, and I wondered where the handles had gone.

Still, I let go of Cerridwen, watching as she shot me a thumbs up and I passed through the curtains, and into the lounging room. It was empty, and I looked beyond to the more formal dining room on this level. 

It wasn't as big as the larger one a level down, and I wondered for a moment how all of the faeries I had seen, including me would fit around it.

It turns out I shouldn't have been so worried. It was larger than I remembered.

Half of the table was occupied, and I had to double check my mental shields because I was hit with a wall of minds that almost made me queasy to process.

A small female with monolidded silver eyes and a black bob sat next to a white haired, black skinned male who gave of the scent of sea salt and waves.

Summer court I surmised with shock. I didn't realise Rhys had expanded his little posse so much outsiders to the Court were now also part of it. But he looked kind, smiling down at the female and feeding her grapes, so I decided to give him the shadow of a doubt.

Sat across from him was a female with pale brown hair, and I couldn't see her face yet.

I took another step into the room, watching my brother in the corner with one arm slung around his mate. Cassian was there, his arm around Rhys' mates sister. 

Azriel was missing, but Mor, the last member of their original trio saw me, and squealed like a kitten that had been stepped on.

I shrank back as she barrelled across the room, swinging me up into her arms.

For the second time that day I got the distinct feeling of being crushed as she held me closely.

"Here's my favourite cousin returned from the dead." She spoke, promptly putting me down and kissing my cheek.

I laughed, surprised and confused. Mor had never been this affectionate to me before. She had always treated me kindly yes, but like an annoying little sibling.

She turned and I wiped my cheek, cautious she might have rubbed off some of her luminous red lipstick, but my hand came away clean.

I was about to follow her to where she grabbed two wineglasses, and poured ones out for me and her, when I felt something stir behind me.

I couldn't explain it, but voices indiscernible to me spoke as I turned, glancing over my shoulder as Azriel emerged from the lounge.

He wasn't wearing the tunic and loose pants of earlier, instead cladded in flying leathers. His shadows which always followed him like lost puppies curled over his ear, and his eyes shot up to mine.

I kept his gaze for a moment, once again wondering why I could never see anything in them, or why his shadows always felt so noticeable, before realising I was probably acting weird and turned back to the room, smiling at mor who was offering me a glass.

Moving further into the room I allowed Azriel to move past me, and a glance between him and Rhys had me understanding that he had been out- probably out on Court business.

I rolled my eyes, taking a sip from the wine before immediately making a face and swallowing it with distaste. Mor was looking at me in shock.

"I don't really drink ... wine." I added, before handing off my glass to her.

I'm not surprised she didn't remember. But I was barely grown, and mother had been a hound on me for trying to indulge in those types of activities.

She took it anyway, sniffing at it like she couldn't imagine why I wouldn't drink it. But that was Mor for you. My happy, flamboyant, sparkling cousin who seemed to radiate light even in the darkest room.

I looked over at Rhys, who was looking at me, then at the brown haired female sat closest to me. I hadn't been able to see her before, as she had been turned away, but now she was facing me, brown eyes and a soft face, a baby in her arms.

Rhys' baby.

I took a deep breath, but smiled down at the little one who was sleeping. He must be a year old, because he didn't seem to be that big, but he was certainly no new-born.

I noted the wings, the same ones that Cassian, Azriel, Rhys and I all bore. Obviously, Illyrian blood must run strong, because his mate didn't look like one of us.

"Why don't you come sit over here and we can begin." My brother spoke, as he took the head of the table and motioned to a seat next to him.

I smiled at those I didn't know, walking behind the short female and the Summer Court male to take a place at Rhysands left.

Mor sandwiched herself in between me and the strange female, and Rhys' mate took the seat across from me. Next to her sat Cassian and then who I assumed was her sister. Azriel took a seat at the other end, filling the table to the brim.

My brother waved his hand, and plates of chicken, potatoes and a myriad of other foods appeared in front of us.

I was about to dive in when Rhys cleared his throat, and I put down the fork I had just grabbed.

"I know everything must be confusing, including the new additions to my inner circle. So I thought I would introduce you to everyone."

I tried to contain my groan, I was terrible with names, but nodded at him, trying to smile.

Rhysand nodded to the female beside him, "Andromeda, this is my mate Feyre ... she is also High Lady of the Night Court." He glanced at me, obviously trying to weigh my reaction, but I had already been clued into this. If their scent hadn't of told me, Nuala already ruined that secret for me. But I could ask questions about the how later.

"You already know Cassian" he said, but motioned to the two females next on the table, "but this is Nesta and Elain- Feyre's sisters. Nesta is Cassian's mate and El-"

"And a Valkyrie." Nesta's added, drawing my attention to her. She was giving Rhys a flat look.

"You introduced Feyre with her title. The least you could do is do the same for me."

My lips quirked, and I noticed that Cassian had to cover his mouth to hide a smile.

Rhys however was less amused and simply gave her a look.

"Andromeda this is Nesta," he curled his lips on the last word, like he would have much preferred using a different name, and continued, "Cassian's mate and one of the new Valkyries."

New? I felt my eyebrows pull together I looked at her. I believed they had all died long before I was born, but perhaps not.

Nesta met my gaze and gave me a wolfish smile.

Valkrie alright.

"And next to her is Elain, Feyre's other sister," I noted how Rhys didn't mention any other title, and the brown-eyed sister looked completely fine with that, "And sitting on her lap is our son- Nyx."

I heard it in his words, a smile. 

He was turning soft in his old age.

I continued my gaze around the table to Azriel, who I noticed had been staring at me. One of his shadows danced across his shoulder, and I wondered what he was thinking. He was looking at me like I might shed my skin and become a night-crawler. Obviously whatever my brother had shared to explain my death and rebirth he didn't fully believe.

But then again, I didn't either, so I matched his gaze with narrowing eyes.

"You know Azriel," Rhys spoke, "But next to him is Varian and Amren. Amren is my second, and Varian is her mate."

His second?

I glanced at the small female, who for the most part looked unintimidating apart from looking rather annoyed- like she would much rather be eating as well.

Curious.

I smiled at the new additions to his 'inner circle' as he put it, trying to act polite, which all failed spectacularly when a thought popped into my mind, and I spoke it before I could contain my rouge thought.

"So father's dead, right?"


	4. Ch 4 - Answers of Agony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andromeda is home, and getting the answers about her new lease on life. But she gets the sneaking suspicion one of her brothers courtiers isn't as willing to believe she had been miraculously returned to the land of the living.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't make it clear but uh Rhys explained to everyone whilst Rome was away about her return ^^' Sorry if I didn't make that clear!

"So father's dead, right?"

The whole table looked at me, I could feel their gazes settling on me like a thick blanket.

Rhys stared at me, and I realised if I was trying to not seem like the skin-walker he had thought I was mere minutes ago being blunt probably wasn't the way to go.

I brought a hand to the back of my neck, rubbing down the small hairs that had risen under the attention of so many, "That sounded ugly ... I meant, you wouldn't be a High Lord if he wasn't, if he was still around." I tried to explain, chasing down my statement with a quick sip of the water that had appeared with the food in front of me.

Oddly it didn't upset me. I was upset that mother had lost her mate, but I understood why I wasn't crying over it.

Yet. There was the beginning of a lump in my throat.

Father was ... father. High Lord first, teacher and mentor second, father last of all. He had moments, where the light shined through, like when he travelled through Velaris and talked with its peoples. But his good nature was only ever visible among the marble and sandstone streets. I don't know why he was the way he was, but he was either emotionless and distant or angry and cruel. He had grown too busy to teach me how to control my powers around my twelfth summer, and pawned the job off to Rhys who was barely home anyway. Mother had tried to get him to bring in a tutor, as my abilities were wild and often prone to explosive tendencies when I was emotional, but he refused on the grounds he could not find one he trusted.

I could feel those powers now, churning under my skin, like a vial full of sand and water that had been shaken.

Feyre, Rhys' mate glanced away, obviously finding my nature abrasive.

"Yes Rome. He died a long time ago. Soon after your own passing."

I looked at the steaming pile of chicken and vegetables, focusing my mind on the food.

"Well," I said, "It's very nice to meet you all. But it's been all day since I've eaten ... or rather a couple hundred years apparently." And promptly grabbed my fork and dug in, mind occupied by a carrot that was calling my name.

There was a few breathy laughs from down the table, but I trained my eyes onto my meal as the fae around me began to eat as well.

Father was gone. And whilst he was my father, and I loved him, it was over, and he was probably gone gone. And I just had to focus on finding mother who was only half-gone.

She had to be here somewhere, or perhaps in-between the afterlife and the living world like I had been. 

I was going to find a way to her.

After I had taken no less that four mouthfuls I looked up to see Rhys' mate, Feyre watching me under her lashes. The scraping of forks and quiet conversation had jumped up around us.

I reached out with my mind, wondering what had drawn my brother into her- what had made them mates, and was blocked by a surprising wall of darkness that noticed my presence.

"You're a daemati too?" I asked, feeling myself frown, "I thought we used to be a rare breed."

Feyre smiled, her hands which were adorned with Illyrian tattoos up to her elbows placing down her cutlery as she spoke, "Yes, and we still are- though you might find mating bonds are a lot less elusive than they used to be."

Mor snickered beside me and elbowed my side, making me flinch slightly, "Turns out all but two of us at the table have mates, either we have great luck or the mother likes us."

The mother.

My mind was pulled back to the female that had been comprised of pure light, ignoring the comment about mates, now realising that the motherly feminine sense I had gotten from her might have been more than just a tactic to calm me.

I shot my gaze to Rhysand, shooting across my idea through the space between us.

He nodded, swallowing before he spoke, "Yes I thought that she must have been the mother. Only one other of us at the table has had an experience with her before, and she appeared in much the similar way."

"Another?" I asked, lifting my gaze to the other end of the table.

Azriel had stopped staring at me, but his eyes were lost in thought as he drank wine. Near him was Feyre's sisters- Elain was chatting quietly to Amren, something about one of the markets though I could tell it was only to stop an awkward silence from spreading, but Nesta's eyes were steely and firm watched me like a hawk.

The Valkyrie.

Curious.

I took another sip of water, using it to wash down the first food in my body, and went for what I imagined would be a tame topic. "So ... what's the story with you guys? There were only four of you prancing about Velaris last time I was here."

Cassian choked on his wine, and I watched as Nesta reached over and slapped him -hard- on the back.

The air was light, and I could tell these kind of antics must be commonplace. Strange. Fathers court had been so sterile and boring, this was like a breath of fresh air. My wings twitched at the realisation, and I took another bite of my food, watching the faces that were beginning to become more than just those of strangers.

I supposed, I was mildly surprised at how well I was handling this all.

I expected Rhys to explain, since he was of course my brother, but it was Azriel who piped up- watching me with those empty eyes.

"Amren was sought out by Rhys soon after he become High Lord, she had many abilities and knowledges he thought might be helpful to a new ruler."

I flicked my eyes to the short female who was rolling her eyes, and muttered to the summer courter -Varian- beside her, "Had being the key word."

Even more curious.

Azriel continued, and I could feel my brother tense in annoyance as Azriel watched me like an eagle, "Our time together was ... uneventful, in retrospect, until about 100 years ago."

The air noticeably thickened, and I threw my gaze to Mor who was staring into her wineglass and Cassian who had turned his head to his mate. Solemn. Especially for a group of beings who were hyper just moments ago. I turned back to my brother, trying to read his expression. It was dark. But only for a moment, and a cool mask slid on seamlessly. 

My eyes tightened, as did my hand around a fork. The only ones who looked fairly unaffected by memories were Nesta and Elain who were respectively eating quietly and cooing softly at Nyx- who I supposed was my cousin now.

I turned back to Azriel to continue but he had broken his gaze, and was looking across the table to my brother.

Rhysand made a show of cutting a piece of meat on his plate, much to my annoyance. What on earth had made the mood so low? I didn't need to ask, because it was answered soon enough.

"Hybern sent people under the guise of making peace. You know Am- Amarantha, the war general from mothers lessons on history." Rhys said quietly, taking great interest in his food.

The thick air turned to lead. It was like breathing in viscous grief even with my mental shields up, burning the back of my throat.

I nodded. I did know her. I had heard mother recount the battles. And how she had even held Rhys captive for a time. She had been a cunning leader until grief over the loss of her sister turned her mad.

My eyes slid to Rhysand. The scorches on the earth back at the clearing ... had they been a form of madness at my loss? They had surely been still thick with the scent of loss even centuries later.

I might have accidentally shouted those words into the space surrounding my mind, or had something similar written on my face because he looked up at me, an empty smile on his lips.

"She pretended to build relationships for many years before inviting the High Lords to a ball under the scared mountain which sits in the middle. It was a ruse. She cursed us all and took our powers. And for 50 years, me, along with all of the other High Lords except from Tamlin were prisoners there." 

My gut dropped at first, at the part where Rhys said he had been a prisoner for half a century, and then took a swan dive into a put of white noise as the mention of his name.

"Tamlin is a High Lord?" I whispered, and I could feel the tears stinging in my eyes.

I fought them back, blinking fiercely. But I could tell they were going to come anyway. I hid my face in my hands, clenching my eyes shut to try and make sense of what he had said.

Tamlin. The man who had led his brothers and fathers to my mothers camp.

He had held my mothers wings, looking them over like a bucks horns as his father had slit her throat.

Blackness roared in, and I felt my powers alight, that hissing darkness begin to build like the undercurrent of a swell.

He had spoken to me, said things before I died. I reached for the memories, grasped at them desperately but they tugged away, leaving me without air.

My fist clenched, and the fork in it bent.

Brining my hands, and the ruined fork from my face, I wiped at the tears. Embarrassed at myself and lack of control.

I was the daughter of a High Lord I should have more control, I-

I wasn't the daughter of High Lord.

I was the sister of one.

I set the fork down, and stood up quickly, the chair screeching against the floor.

Maybe this wasn't going to be so easy.

"I'm sorry I think the food is disagreeing with me," I lied, knowing it was obvious to everyone in the room. It was obvious to the strangers that I had met less than an hour ago who were now somehow my family. "Excuse me."

I kept my eyes trained on the floor, and practically ran from the room, feeling my breath coming in quick gasps.

I entered the lounge, and already my power felt like it might explode. Like I was going to transform into a dying star and have the darkness crush me until there was no light left.

Moving quickly I swept from there too, shaking my head and Nuala and Cerridwen who appeared from thin air, gasping out the words, "I need to be alone."

They tried to approach me but I held out a hand, one that had darkness lacing it like a glove.

They stayed back, and I couldn't bear the sadness in their eyes. The pity.

I had come back. Survived death. Only to be somewhere I didn't recognise with the one who had caused all of this holding one of the highest positions in the whole of Prythian.

I winnowed.

I was still exhausted, and I tumbled into the darkness from the corridor onto that balcony that mother had like to land on, the one I had crashed home on.

My silk shoes slipped against the marble, and I almost went down onto my bruising knees as I scrambled towards the ledge, wanting to feel the wind in my skin to try and wipe away all feeling. All knowledge.

I pushed myself up, making it to the edge as I leaped off, tumbling down into empty air.

I spread my wings as my stomach dropped, and beat them to the thundering of my heart.

I didn't know where I wished to go, only that it be away from that room of confusion.

I prayed to the stars that this was all some misunderstanding. That this was another Velaris, a trick somehow. That I might go over one of the mountain ridges and see my real city, unchanged and with my brother who was still just Lord Heir.

But as I rose in the air, wings and core burning with the effort of rocketing skywards, I could see over the edges of the mountains.

Nothing lay there except farms and forests.

The tears on my face were warm against the freezing wind, chilling the skin they tracked over.

I stopped beating my wings, letting the air support me as I tumbled down- probably looking like a fledgling crashing down from a nest to onlookers from the city.

I didn't care what they saw.

I savoured the feeling of freefall, as I tumbled and turned until the chaos inside felt matched by the spinning winds outside.

My powers burned around me, and though it had been night when I arrived, I let my powers dampen the night sky into an ageless dark, blotting out the stars as far as I would let it roam.

Before I spun into any buildings, I righted myself, turning on a dime and forcing myself into a glide across the city.

I cried then, up where nobody could see my emotions. Where nobody could hear me. Sobs tearing my apart as I circled above the city, trying to grab familiar sights. 

A lot of it I recognised, but all too much it was a strange land. There was renovations going on all over the city, and architecture had aged from my last visit.

It was terrifying.

More so than the thoughts that South of this land, near the wall was HIM.

A High Lord. One of the seven of this land.

Untouchable.

Somehow I didn't cry or scream anymore, I felt empty.

Before rage rushed in to take its place.

I did not know what happened to his father, or older brothers. But they deserved whatever hell they must be rotting in for him to have taken the throne.

My only regret was I was not the one to send them there.

I turned, a graceful curve of an airborne predator, in the direction of the Spring Court.

I was going to carve his skin from his flesh. I was going to make him feel everything I had.

Even if I had to fly all night and day. Even if it would kill me.

Because I was going to kill him.

I was gliding across the city, back towards the south when I spotted another Illyrian in the sky, their wings making slow booms as they crossed the air towards me.

My brother, or one of his stupid posse who had always been too old or too busy to make time for me.

You could imagine my surprise when I saw the pale skin, the face of contradictory sharpness and soft. Feyre, Rhys' mate.

It was enough to stop my revenge plan in it's tracks.

"I didn't know you were half-Illyrian." I shouted to her when she neared enough to hear me, and flew in lazy circles. She would not stop me from getting even, watching as I split Tamlin's blood over his precious court, but the appearance of another flightworthy Illyrian female my own age was shocking.

I had only even flown with my mother, she being the only female to have escaped clipping.

Feyre wore a calm face, though I'm sure she could see the murder etched onto my face.

"I'm not. But one of my abilities is shapeshifting." She countered, understandably cautious as she watched my face as I figured out what that meant.

"That's a Spring Court affinity." I said, spitting the name as we began to circle each other lazily.

It wasn't done to intimidate, simply the best way to stay airborne whilst holding a conversation.

"Perhaps once. But it is mine now."

What did that mean?

I felt my powers begin to lack, and I pulled back the eclipsing darkness into myself from the sky above. She didn't even spare a glance, though that shouldn't be surprising if my brother was her mate. She had probably seen her fair share of Night Court talents. I watched her, and she gave me a soft smile.

"You know you'll have to get in line."

"For what?" I asked, though there was less venom in my voice.

"For the rest of us to finish our business with him."

I knew who she was talking about.

"Why?" I spoke, suddenly not trusting my voice, "Did he cut your wings off too? Did his actions cause you to be trapped somewhere for 300 years?"

She laughed. Actually laughed.

"You have no idea how close you are to the truth. In many ways yes, he did. Though what he did to me was more in a mental manner." She said, and I was surprised there was no bitterness in her tone. Only sadness, and pity.

How could she pity such a monster?

I snorted, feeling my temper rise and fall like a wave. "I don't care."

I could feel Feyre watching me. But it was without judgement.

"Then let me come with you. It's a long flight, you could use company." She called, adjusting her wings so she did not fall out of the spiral with me.

A hiss shot through my teeth, "You won't talk me out of it."

Feyre's eyes were on me again, and I looked up at them, dark blue pools of patience.

"Perhaps I wouldn't. But either way you wouldn't be alone."

I chewed on that for a moment, looking away and down at the city below me.

"Your brother and father got their revenge on his parents and brothers long ago. But I suppose, if you wanted to wipe out the line completely it would be your choice."

My eyes shot up to hers, which were watching me.

His parents ... not just his father. 

Feyre saw the understanding in my eyes and nodded, her hands coming together as she rubbed them absentmindedly, "A lot of blood has been shed. And a lot of love lost between our two courts. Perhaps, if you are willing to wait until morning to continue your revenge I could tell you the story of how I met him when I was a human, and how it was my love for him that broke Amarantha's curse. Or how if I had never met him, I would have never met Rhys either."

I stopped flying in a circle, and had to flap fiercely to right myself, trying to hover in place as I watched her.

"You were a what- You LOVED him?!" I accused, confused and not understanding what she meant at all.

Feyre copied me, except she did not have to flap to stay in place. I felt her power ripple as some kind of solid air held her in place.

"I'll tell you the whole story if you will just wait till morning. And if you still wish to go to the Spring Court I will come with you."

I tried to look for deceit in her face, for a lie or some kind of ruse to try and confuse me from my goal.

I found brutal, aching honesty.

She reminded me of my mother.

My throat tightened at the thought of her, somewhere far away that I still had to search to find her. If I died on the flight tonight, or was too exhausted to win against Tamlin I would die before finding her again. And as much as I hated to say it ... If I waited until morning I would have a clear enough mind to start to think of where to find her.

"I'm not going to change my mind."

She nodded, but rose a hand, the same hardened air that supported her filled my straining wings, allowing me to take a deep breath as we floated above Velaris, "That is your decision."

I swallowed the lump in my throat, glancing away for a moment before looking back at her. She was beautiful. But also so normal. But she had pointed ears, and wings. I was so confused by what she had said. And it seemed I might need all of the pieces to the picture before I could face my demon.

"I'm leaving in the morning." I said cautiously.

"Bright and early," Feyre replied, looking every bit as determined as I.

Well then. That's that.

"Explain then."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. Whilst I update this story fairly frequently, if you ever want to check out some of my other works I have a Rowaelin/Feysand Children Crossover on Wattpad under the title of 'The Phoenix and The Dragon' - It's not as good of quality as this story and it's chapters are shorter, but it's got about 15 chapters up if you ever want any other material from me in an ACOTAR/TOG world.
> 
> I leave my shorter, more rough stories on Wattpad and post my more structured/planned works here on AO3, but I do have a large selection of fandoms on my account over there :)
> 
> Bright Blessings, Poppy.


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